


In the Spaces Between

by TheRedWulf



Series: Sansan One Shots [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Babies, Banter, F/M, Law Enforcement, Modern Era, Police, Porn With Plot, plot holes, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 07:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21388078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which the Cleganes settle in to married life...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: Sansan One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479980
Comments: 40
Kudos: 304





	In the Spaces Between

**Author's Note:**

> A short follow up to my previous Sansan oneshots, "In the Night" & "In the Day"...this is just an excuse to write more fluff/smut for this pairing. 
> 
> So many of you asked for more, I hope you enjoy this little wrap up. Just a slice of life, nothing groundbreaking.
> 
> I would read the first/second part, to have this all make about more sense, start here; https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562596
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.

“I’m looking for Clegane?”

“Which one?” Sandor heard Giantsbane ask and couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Tall, sort of scary,” the man elaborated. 

“Yeah, you’re going to have to be more specific, they’re both tall and scary.”

“Captain Clegane” the man clarified. 

“That’s his office there” Giantsbane said and Sandor looked up to see the tall, dark and suave good looks of Oberyn Martell walk through the door. 

“Captain Clegane, my name is--”

“Oberyn Martell, I know” Sandor stood, towering over the man and extended his hand. “Captain Sandor Clegane. What brings the Governor’s brother to my office.” 

“Well, as you may know, I write for the Lannisport Herald” he replied. “I am going to be writing a series of human interest pieces on those who dedicate their lives to serving the people of Lannisport. I was hoping I could write about you and your lovely wife.”

Sandor scoffed, “Why not just write about my _lovely_ wife?”

“Because you’re a veteran of the armed forces and you have served Lannisport for much longer than she has” Oberyn reasoned. “I was hoping to---”

“You bitch! Uncuff me so I can kick your ass!” yelling echoed in the hall. 

“Did you miss the part where I said that you have the right to remain silent?” Sansa’s reply came and Sandor couldn’t help but laugh. 

They’d been married for nearly two years now, and some mornings he still rolled over to face her, wondering how he had gotten so damn lucky. 

Over three years ago he had watched the most beautiful woman in the world walk into a shit bar, and pass by every man in the room to sit right next to him. She stormed in, pushing past every barrier he put up and changed everything. He never imagined that he would be married and settled, promoted to Captain while Sansa was now in his old position of Patrol Sergeant. 

Not only that, but every day when they finished work, they drove home to their secluded bungalow house on the edge of town, a mile walk from the beach. It was, quite frankly, more than he had ever hoped for. 

He and Oberyn watched as Sansa and Bronn escorted the yelling man through to the sally port where transport was waiting to take him back to lock up. 

“I know kung-fu” the man squirmed. 

“Alright Morpheus, but we’re not in the matrix, so please fucking exercise your right to remain silent!” Sansa argued, turning to see him standing there. His vixen of a wife winked at him as she passed and, as usual, he couldn’t wait to get her home tonight. 

“Clegane!” he called to her. 

“Cap!” she answered. 

“My office when you’re done,” he told her. 

“10-4!”

“Lovely wife” Sandor chuckled. “Fairly certain that she is tougher than either of us, Martell” he returned to his office, motioning to the vacant chair. Oberyn sat as Sandor did, the two men waiting for Sansa to join them. 

“I wouldn’t doubt it” Oberyn agreed. “You two were the talk of Westeros when the photo of you two after the shooting went viral.”

“Ah” Sandor nodded, pointing to a newspaper that was hanging, framed on his office wall. It was the Lannister Herald, the story about the shooting downtown where Sansa had come to the rescue. The photo, however, was a cell phone image captured by a bystander, Sansa holding the rifle as she bent over and kissed him while they waited for the paramedics. The photo, taken of his good side, went viral across the country, reporters following them everywhere for a chance to talk to them. 

They had done all they could to avoid the media, hating that they had inadvertently become an ‘it’ couple, simply for doing their jobs. 

It had certainly been a trial for their relationship, the questions over his visage hitting the media and putting him on edge at all times. But Sansa had stuck by him, being strong, being understanding and holding him when he finally broke down. 

He wouldn’t speak of it to anyone, but in her arms he had cried, clinging to her, his lifeline and the new life he had found at her side. He felt like the worst sort of pussy, crying and holding onto her but she never faltered and for the first time in his life, he realized that he wasn’t alone.

“You rang” Sansa entered the office, knocking on the open door with a smile. 

“San, this is Oberyn Martell, from the Herald” Sandor explained to his wife, whose eyebrows lifted in amusement. “He is going to be writing a human interest piece on us.”

“Is he now?” she looked to Oberyn Martell, her expression impassive. 

“I was hoping to, yes” Oberyn smiled his most charming smile and Sandor had the pleasure of watching Sansa ignore it. 

“Why?” she asked.

“I am going to write a series of pieces on people who serve the city and I felt that you two would be a nice addition to the series” Oberyn explained. 

“Alright” Sansa looked to him, a silent conversation passing between them. That was something he particularly loved about their relationship, how they were always able to converse without words. They both wanted nothing to do with this article, but when the Governor’s brother came calling, they had to answer it. 

“Perfect” Oberyn clapped his hands once before rubbing them together. “Shall we begin?”

“Fucking Gods” Sansa sighed, opening two beers before handing him one. “I would rather be interrogated by Payne and his stuttering, than deal with any more reporters. Please baby, no more reporters.”

They had survived a near-three hour interview with Oberyn Martell and both of them were more than ready to enjoy their weekend. Oberyn had asked everything from ‘why did you become a police officer’ to ‘how does working with your spouse go? Do you get sick of each other?’ and everything in between.

Sandor chuckled, pulling her close for a brief kiss before leaning against the kitchen island, “I was about ready to pull him over the table, smug Martell bastard thinks he can flirt with my ‘lovely wife’,” he grumbled. 

“As satisfying as that might have been, it's more paperwork than its worth,” she laughed, sipping her beer. “Ugh” she turned to spit into the sink. “This beer tastes like piss, what the hell?” 

“What? I just bought it” Sandor frowned, grabbing her bottle to take a sip. “It’s fine, same as always.”

“No, ew” she made a face and shook her head. “Not even. Here, drink it.” 

“Fine, if you insist” he smirked, watching as she set about making dinner. The quiet evenings at home were her favorite. When they could hide away from the world and its madness, leaving behind the bullshit of the day and relax. 

She had never expected, on her first night in a new town, that she would meet the man she would spend her life with. But Sandor was everything she didn’t realize that she was looking for; strong, gentle and so many more wonderful things that he had kept hidden behind a gruff, sharp exterior. The scars were nothing against the reality of who he truly was. 

Of course, it had taken her family by shock when Sansa brought Sandor home for Christmas the first year they were together. Arya had taken an instant liking to him, Robb had been an overprotective ass, and her mother—well, her mother still hadn’t come around but they all knew that Sandor made her happy, that she loved him. 

“Hey!” she smacked his hand as he stole a few pieces of the bell pepper she was slicing for fajitas. “You can be patient, mister!”

“Absolutely not” he gently took the knife from her hand and pulled her into his arms. She feigned exasperation as he kissed her softly, raising a pair of their joined hands to guide her in a slow, swaying dance. 

“Captain Clegane” she whispered. “Devoted husband. Closet romantic.” 

“Not a chance” he smirked, his deep voice rumbling through her. “But as your husband, it is my pleasure to romance you.” 

“Romance me?” she raised a brow. “I thought that as my husband, it was your pleasure to _romance_ me until I can’t walk.” 

“That too” he shrugged, leaning down to kiss her. It was when his hand slipped under her t-shirt that she pulled back, smiling up at her husband. 

“Dinner first, I am starving” she gave him a short kiss. “Then ‘romance’.”

“Wench” he playfully smacked her ass and she laughed, both of them working to get dinner ready.

“Sandor, fuck” he would never, ever, tire of hearing her sigh--or scream his name, her voice raspy from her cries of pleasure as she writhed against his mouth. Her hands were tangled in his short hair, her legs wrapped around his shoulders to keep him close. 

This, of course, was one of his favorite places to be, in their bedroom with his face buried in his wife’s cunt, listening to her gasp and moan in pleasure. Pleasure that he was responsible for, that he delighted in bringing her. Him and only him. 

He would never tell her, but sometimes he would wake in the middle of the night and watch her for several moments, reassuring himself that she was there, she was real and that her becoming his wife hadn’t been a dream. He had no idea how an ugly, rude fucker like himself had managed to catch the eye of— let alone marry Sansa Stark, but he was damned determined to ensure she spent every day, for the rest of her life, happier than she imagined she could be.

Hence, why as soon as they had finished dinner, he had carried her upstairs and set about making her scream his name. 

“Sandor--oh fuck, I’m gonna cum” she panted and he could feel her thighs shaking against him. Burrowing further into her folds, he suckled her clit and her screams filled the bedroom as her taste flooded his mouth. “Fuck!” 

It was in these moments that he felt like a man of accomplishment. He brought her down slowly and when he pulled back, it was to admire her flushed porcelain skin and the slight beard rash on her inner thighs. He met her gaze as he crawled over her, her bright blue eyes glazed with pleasure. 

“Wife” he growled as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He quickly adjusted his cock and sank into her, both of them groaning at the relief of finally being joined. “Fuck me.”

“That’s the plan” Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders, lifting her lips to meet his in a soft, sweet kiss—sweet, until she gently bit his lower lip. 

“Minx” he withdrew his hips only to surge back into her, her fingers digging into his back as he filled her over and over. It didn’t take long for his body to find that perfect angle and the deep thrusts that had both them and the bed shaking.

“So fucking good” Sansa sighed, clinging tightly to him. She leaned closer, trailing soft bites along his jaw to his ear, “But you know what would be better? You on your back…” she tugged on his ear lobe with her teeth. “Me riding your big cock, baby—ah!” she laughed as he rolled them quickly, settling her astride his hips so he could admire her from below. 

“A beautiful little bird, perched on my cock” he grabbed her hips and ground her against him, her moans and whimpers soft as he bottomed out inside of her. He trailed a hand over the curve of her hip to her breasts, toying with them briefly before cupping her cheek. 

Sansa turned, taking his thumb into her mouth, nibbling and sucking on it as she rode him. 

Watching her, his _lovely wife_, her porcelain nudity seeming to glow in the soft moonlight of their bedroom. Her hair free and wild, a bit tangled but still a curtain of fiery perfection. Gods, it was everything he could do to stop himself from cumming. 

In the recesses of his mind, he registered the phone ringing downstairs, but there was not a chance in the seven buggering hells that he was stopping his wife to answer it. Whoever it was, could wait. 

As he watched, she lost her rhythm and he could tell she was close, her body racing towards its peak once more. A few moments later, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her as her body flushed and arched in pleasure. She cried out his name, head thrown back and her long, fiery hair tickling his legs as she came. 

“Fuck” he growled, spilling himself inside of her on a wave of white-hot pleasure, his body so lost it his climax that he barely felt her weight as she settled atop him, nuzzling her face into his scarred neck. 

“You know” she whispered with a giggle when she finally caught her breath. “I think putting a ring on your finger was the best decision I ever made” she laughed, her warm breath tickling him.

Sandor wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, “I know marrying you was the best decision I ever made,” he said quietly. “Though I also know—” 

The doorbell several times in quick succession, cutting off his words, and Sansa raised her head, looking very confused, “Who the hell is that?”

“I’ll handle it” he said reluctantly, remembering that the house phone rang a bit ago. He slid from bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, grabbing a flannel button down as he headed downstairs. 

Sansa watched Sandor go, admiring the muscles in his back as he walked away. Hopefully whoever was at the door would be easily dealt with and then they could return to their loving. She turned onto her stomach and smiled against the comforter, Sandor’s scent surrounding her. 

She smiled, relaxing for another moment before she moved to the bathroom to clean herself up. Pulling on her robe she heard a few soft voices and then a crying baby. 

_Baby_\--Robb? she ran her hands through her hair to smooth it as she made her way downstairs. But there was no sign of Robb and she was met with several sullen faces, hell, Tarth looked as if she was going to burst into tears and Sandor…

“San” her husband’s deep voice had her eyes swinging to where Sandor stood with Giantsbane, who was also still in uniform, the small form of Little Ben whimpering against Sandor’s bare chest. Tormund had a diaper bag in his hand, one he was awkwardly looking for a place to set before placing it on the recliner. 

She hadn’t excelled in law enforcement for no reason, her brain quickly putting the pieces together. 

“San” Brienne Tarth, one of the midnight shift sergeants said, her voice breaking. “Your brother Robb, and Talisa—”

“No” Sansa turned to Tormund who gave a grim nod. “You’re fucking joking—”

“I am so sorry” Brienne said. “We felt it would be better to hear it from us, from your blue family, before the hospital called.” 

“You mean” she swallowed, her eyes flooding with tears.

“San” Sandor moved closer, wrapping his free arm around her as she shook her head. “LPD is still at the scene, but Giantsbane brought Ben to us once the hospital cleared him.”

“Oh my Gods” Sansa felt her legs go weak and Sandor and Tormund helped her to the couch. She looked up to Little Ben, her six-month old nephew who looked more like Robb than Robb, and she felt tears stream down her cheeks. “My parents…” Sansa choked. “Oh my Gods. What are we going to tell my parents?” 

“The truth, that’s all we can say” Sandor said softly, turning to the others. “I will get the family here, just...work the scene.” 

“Thank you” Sansa said weakly. Brienne and Tormund nodded, both looking ragged and exhausted. Their shift would have ended over an hour or so ago, but they were staying on shift to help her family and she would be forever grateful. 

The two officers excused themselves and Sansa felt her husband’s form settle on the couch beside her. They sat in silence for several minutes, her eyes occasionally looking to where Ben was relaxing against the warmth of Sandor’s skin. 

Sandor, a self-confessed beginner when it comes to babies, seemed to have the magic touch that was needed to keep the littlest Stark calm. 

“Where?” she asked softly. 

“Route 12 and Mill’s Crossing” he replied. 

She squeezed her eyes closed, remembering the last accident she had worked there and how bad it had been, “Fuck.” 

“The other driver was drunk, fucker’s dead.”

“Good.”

“I will get everyone here” he said softly. “I will make a few calls, alright?” She nodded, still too stunned to do anything more than try to keep breathing. 

He moved away, carrying Ben with him as he crossed to the kitchen. She heard his deep voice as he called Arya first, then her father and calmly explained to them that they needed to get here as quickly as possible. She covered her face with trembling hands, her stomach rolling as she thought about how she was going to tell her mother than her precious Robb was gone….

“Fuck” she stood, running to the bathroom where she wretched up dinner, trying to hold her hair back as she choked. 

“San” heavy footsteps came closer and Sandor appeared in the doorway with the baby. 

“I’m okay” she choked then laughed. “I mean...I’m not, but...ya know.” 

“I am going to settle him on the bed” Sandor motioned to the sleeping baby and she gave a nod, resting her head against the toilet seat as she silently cried. 

Robb and Talisa had only been married two years, Ben coming along right as they’d planned for and they were such a perfectly Stepford family it was hard to look at some time. Robb, the Stark eldest, was the apple of her parents’ eyes, especially her mother. 

Gods, none of them had ever been able to measure up to Robb’s accomplishments and behavior. Even marrying Talisa, a woman her mother hadn’t initially approved of, was far more than what the other siblings could hope for. It wasn’t like her mother was a fan of Sandor…

“Alright, little bird” Sandor helped her up and handed her a glass of water that she used to rinse her mouth. He had buttoned his shirt, but still wore just sweats and she supposed that was more than acceptable dress code. “If you need help getting dressed—”

“No,” she shook her head, leaning against his strength. “No, I can do it, I just felt sick there for a moment.” 

“Alright” he leaned his forehead against hers. “I love you, and I am so sorry—” 

“I love you—fuck, I am going to need your help” she whispered. “My mother...”

“I know” he replied when she trailed off. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry.” 

“Alright” she took a deep breath. “I will dress and then…”

“I’ll get coffee going” he nodded, releasing her. 

As if in a trance, she returned to their bedroom, pausing to look at where Sandor had settled Ben onto their king-sized bed. The tiny baby was in the middle of the mattress, surrounded by blankets and pillows that would prevent him from rolling anywhere, and she felt her mouth twitch into a smile. Her husband was a good man, though she’d always known that, but the effort he put in to tucking the baby in made her love him all over again.

Her heart ached at the realization that Ben would never know his parents. He would grow up without them and that was so supremely unfair she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. 

Forcing herself to look away from Ben, she dressed in a pair of running leggings and one of Sandor’s sweatshirts. It was huge on her but she needed the comfort it brought. Holding the collar over her face for several seconds, she let his scent soothe her.

Pulling her hair into a messy bun, she returned downstairs as a knock came at the door and Arya rushed inside, looking harried and unkempt.

“Hey” Arya looked to Sansa. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?” she looked around the room, her eyes settling on the familiar grey diaper bag that was dotted with cartoon wolves. “San..?” 

“Mom and Dad will be here soon” Sansa replied softly, her eyes filling with fresh tears. 

“Fuck” Arya whispered. 

“‘Fuck’, is right” Sansa replied. 

“Well, it's just unheard of,” Catelyn said and Sandor wanted to roll his eyes. Fortunately, his years of dealing with suspects had taught him how to conceal his thoughts well. Instead, Sandor’s face was impassive as he sipped his coffee, the sleeping baby in his arms ensuring that he didn’t leap over the table and strangle his mother-in-law. 

They’d been caring for Ben since the night of the accident, nearly three weeks now, and it had become a new sort of routine. Sansa had taken a bit of family leave at work and Sandor reduced his hours to help her at home. 

It was universal knowledge, across the department, that Sansa had lost her brother and sister-in-law in the accident, and their blue family had rallied around them, doing whatever they could to help. Tormund had even shown up last week with a very odd assortment of groceries, things he thought may help. It was...heartwarming.

“Mom--” Sansa sighed, pinching her nose. 

“No, really” Catelyn interrupted. “He is my grandson, and I should be the one to take care of him.” 

“Robb and Talisa left that to us, Mom” Sansa replied. “We are more than capable of taking care of Ben.” 

“Of that I am not so certain” Catelyn’s eyes moved to Sandor with a raised brow. He met her eyes unflinching, not letting her intimidate him. 

Robb and Talisa’s deaths had been chaotic. Catelyn had been inconsolable and the rest of the family was in instant shock. They had passed that first night at Sandor and Sansa’s house, his duty to keep the coffee and tea flowing and Ben monitored as the others tried to calm Catelyn down. 

The accident had been ruled the fault of the intoxicated driver, Tormund and Brienne doing a fantastic job investigating the scene and keeping the details from the press. Tormund, a man Sandor hadn’t given much credit before, had ushered Ben immediately from the hospital to Sandor and Sansa, knowing that the baby should be with family as quickly as possible. 

Perhaps that ginger wasn’t as touched in the head as Sandor had thought. 

Ned had seen to the funeral arrangements. Since Talisa’s parents had already passed away, they made sure that she was properly interred with Robb in a shared plot, allowing them to rest together forever. 

It was the detail of Ben, however, that seemed to be creating today’s issue. Again. 

Sandor had been surprised to learn from the lawyers that Robb and Talisa had left Ben in their care, him and Sansa’s, if something should happen to them. Robb had reasoned that Catelyn and Ned were getting on in years, and they wanted Ben to experience life with parents and not just grandparents. They knew that they would keep Ben safe, see to his happiness and Sandor couldn’t argue with that.

So, Sandor now found himself holding his once-nephew and now son, as Catelyn bickered about the arrangements. Again. 

“Please, Sansa, be reasonable” Catelyn pushed and he could tell that Sansa was close to losing her cool. 

“I am being reasonable, mother” Sansa replied, biting her lower lip in a way that told Sandor that she was holding something back. 

“What do you really know about babies” Catelyn asked. “I have raised 5 children, I know what I am doing.” 

“Yeah, well” Sansa paused, covering her face with her hands for a moment before she looked to her mother. “I was going to have to learn in a few months anyway. So, I might as well start now.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah. What?” Sandor looked to his wife, his brain racing to process her words. 

“Yeah” Sansa looked to him, giving a small smile. “I would have noticed sooner, I think, if there wasn’t so much going on.”

“San…”

“I was going to tell you this weekend, for your birthday” she laughed, shaking her head. “Nothing ever goes as planned, does it?” 

“You’re…” he swallowed, ignoring the gaping stare of his mother-in-law. “We’re pregnant?” 

“Yeah” she whispered. “Yeah, we are.” 

He watched his wife for several moments, drinking in the happiness in her eyes and the unsure tilt of her smile. She was happy, just unsure how he would take the news. After all, they hadn’t exactly been trying for a baby. 

He should have noticed, he supposed. She’d given up alcohol and she had been sick a few times, claiming stress. But, he forced his emotions back, his wife was pregnant--they were pregnant. 

“Well” he cleared his throat. “That settles it then.” 

“Sandor—” Catelyn protested and he turned, fixing her with a glare, freezing her mid-argument. 

“Ben stays here, he grows up with siblings,” Sandor stated plainly. “We’ll move the rest of his things over from Robb’s house and that’s the end of it.” 

“I—” Catelyn gave a small nod. “Alright.” 

“Alright” Sansa gave a watery smile and Sandor reached out to take her hand, kissing the back of it softly. 

“Alright.” 

“Look at you” Sandor’s voice rumbled against her neck as he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her stomach. He’d been on shift all day, drowning in paperwork she was sure, and cursing the day he decided to test for Captain. She was finishing up laundry, folding the last of their clothes and setting it in the basket for her husband to carry upstairs.

“I don’t need to, I feel as big as a house” she chuckled, shaking her head. She had officially started maternity leave two weeks ago, though she had been working in records since she learned she was pregnant. Her due date was only a few short weeks away and she felt more sluggish than she had in her life. 

Alternatively, she also loved being able to feel the life moving around inside of her. A tiny little miracle made from herself and the man she loved more than anything in the world. 

“You’re beautiful” he mumbled, kissing her shoulder. 

“A very _kind_ woman at the store pointed out to me that it looks like there would be less than a year between my children” Sansa snarked. “I couldn’t help but appreciate that they will be so close in age. Our boys will grow up close, I suppose.” 

“Our boys” Sandor agreed, holding her snugly against him. “Imagine, brothers who don’t fucking hate each other’s guts” he snarked, referring to his own childhood. There was a good reason that she had never met his brother, Gregor, and she hoped that she never would. Sandor had enough to deal with now without his brother showing up to rain on the parade. As far as Sansa was concerned, Gregor didn’t exist. He had already done enough damage to Sandor’s self-esteem.

She remembered the day that the doctor told them that they were expecting a boy. Sandor had gone quiet, and she thought that he was unhappy about the news. They’d gone home, Sansa carrying Ben inside as she prepared to confront his foul mood, but the moment Sandor sat on the couch, he was battling tears. 

Her husband, so used to being a solitary creature, had _sons_. Something he had never dared to dream of, something he felt decidedly unworthy of. He was terrified, he admitted, that he would be a terrible father and screw up. Sansa had assured him that she was scared too, but that they were in it together, partners. 

From the first moment she saw him, all those years ago in the bar, she instantly knew he was a gruff, abrupt man, and she had always liked that about him. He was honest, always, sometimes to a fault. Now, this gruff man was her husband and they would have two children soon. And as much as she loved Ben, she couldn’t wait to see what a tiny little Sandor would look like. 

Emotions had run their course through him, and she could only hold his hand and remind him that she was there. That their family was there. That afternoon, once they tucked Ben into his room across the hall, they spent the entirety of his nap making love and celebrating. 

“Ben asleep?” Sandor asked and she smiled, leaning back against him. 

“He is” she replied. 

“Perfect” he kissed his away across her shoulder while his hands were busy bunching her dress--the only one that fit her, to burrow underneath. He groaned when he realized that she wore nothing under her dress, the sound vibrating through her. “Fucking perfect” he growled, trailing his fingers into her folds. 

She sighed, her head lolling back onto his shoulder as he teased her. 

“Sandor” she whispered, turning to kiss along his jaw. 

“Hmm?” 

“We only have thirty minutes--tops, before Ben wakes up, so—” she did her best to smother her laughter as Sandor growled in frustration and picked her up. She held to his shoulders as he carried her upstairs, no small feat considering she couldn’t even see her feet anymore. 

He carefully lay her on the bed before kicking off his shoes and shedding his shirt to stretch out next to her. She turned towards him and pulled him into a kiss, both of them more than ready to make use of their stolen moment alone. Soon parenthood would call them back to work, but for now, she was going to get her husband naked as fast as humanly possible and enjoy herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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